CHAPTER 122
Author: Universeleap
last update2025-03-31 21:35:25

The drive to Rawon’s wedding had been filled with more chatter than Jack preferred—most of it coming from Heather Reed, who seemed to have appointed herself the queen of casual arrogance. Jack sat in the backseat with Lisa, scrolling through his phone, only half-listening as Heather droned on about how she “never wears off-the-rack” and “could never date a man who doesn’t drive European.”

Jack’s phone buzzed.

Lisa had texted him.

Lisa: If she says “luxury” one more time, I’m going to roll out of this car and take my chances on the highway.

Jack smirked, thumbs tapping.

Jack: She’s a textbook case. Hates poverty, worships wealth. Poor Mitchell doesn’t stand a chance.

Lisa turned slightly, covering her laugh with a fake cough.

In the front seat, Nie Mitchell, still glowing with pride over his A6, tried to steer the conversation away from Heather’s usual materialistic comments.

“Heather,” Mitchell said, glancing sideways, “you know, Jack here is actually a model among men. Quiet type, bu
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    Inside the venue, Jack and Lisa found their assigned seats near the middle row. Lisa looped her arm through Jack’s, and he allowed the gesture, leaning in just enough to make her smile. The crowd around them whispered as they passed—Mr. Sullivan’s presence didn’t go unnoticed.Jack’s sharp gaze swept across the sea of guests. That’s when he spotted Charlotte Shaw, standing near the champagne bar, pretending not to see him. She was deep in fake conversation with two investors, her posture tense, her eyes flickering toward him every few seconds.Lisa caught it too. “She’s avoiding you.”Jack gave a slow nod. “Smartest thing she’s done all week.”Moments later, Heather Reed returned.She had changed into a fitted lavender gown with just a little too much cleavage for a formal event. Her makeup was heavier now, her perfume strong enough to mark her path. But what turned heads wasn’t just her attire—it was the man walking beside her.Derek Lawrence.The best man. Son of the Lawrence family

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    Heather Reed stormed out of the venue, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor as she dialed Maria with trembling fingers.“Maria!” she hissed into the phone, breath ragged. “You need to come. Now. It’s Derek. He’s been—he’s been beaten, and it’s not just that. You need to see who did it.”“What?! Beaten?!” Maria’s voice cracked through the speaker. “Where are you?”“The reception hall. Hurry!”Maria arrived minutes later, breathless, gown flowing behind her like a trail of chaos. She pushed through the crowd only to see Derek sprawled across the floor, face drenched in red wine, struggling to speak through a busted lip.“Oh my God,” she gasped. “What happened to you?”Derek groaned, spitting out blood. “It was him—Jack Sullivan! That bastard humiliated me! Call my father! Call Uncle Warren! They’ll make him pay!”Heather stood nearby, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes darting between Jack and the growing crowd.Jack Sullivan, calm and composed, leaned back i

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    “Mr. Sullivan?” she muttered, looking at her husband. “You... you didn’t tell me.”David Smith stood beside her, his face blank as he stared at Jack, the realization dawning on him as well.Jack Sullivan, who had once been just the man to help them with a business deal, was Mr. Sullivan—the figure of power and mystery that everyone feared.Lisa’s voice cracked. “How... how could you not tell me?” She turned to David, her eyes filled with hurt. “You’ve known all along?”David remained silent, his jaw tight. How was he supposed to explain?Meanwhile, Heather Reed, who had earlier mocked Jack for his lack of importance, now found herself on her knees, trembling. She bowed her head to the floor. “Mr. Sullivan, I was wrong. Please forgive me.”Her voice was shaky, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence as she waited for Jack’s response.Jack, still calm and composed, took a slow sip from his wine glass. He didn’t even glance at Heather. “Stand up, Miss Reed,” he said coolly. “I do

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    The air in the reception hall crackled with tension. Jack Sullivan’s fury was palpable, his eyes cold as they locked onto Victor Lawrence and his son Derek, who was still trying to steady himself after the humiliation. Jack’s fingers curled into a fist at his side, the anger burning beneath his calm exterior.“You think I’m done?” Jack’s voice was low, icy, and every word dripped with menace. “No, Victor. This ends now.”Victor’s jaw tightened, and he stood taller, attempting to retain his pride. “You’ve made your point, Mr. Sullivan. But my son is not some animal you can—”“I’m not done with you yet,” Jack interrupted, his gaze shifting to Derek. “Both of you need to kneel. Now. Apologize.”Derek’s face twisted in fury. “You think I’m going to kneel to you? You’ve got another thing coming!”Victor’s hand clenched at his side, his mind racing. He could feel the power shift in the room, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks—this was Jack’s territory. This was Carson City. Th

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    As the music resumed at the wedding, the mood had shifted dramatically. Where once whispers of doubt surrounded Jack Sullivan, now every step he took was met with hushed reverence. The most feared man in Carson City had just made an example out of the Lawrences—and everyone was watching.“Mr. Sullivan, may I pour you another glass?” a trembling waiter asked, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the table.“No need,” Jack said coolly. “I’ve already spilled enough tonight.”Laughter rippled across the room—nervous, forced, but there.Heather Reed, still dressed in her bridesmaid gown, made her way over to David Smith. Her smile was suddenly sweet, her eyes glistening with what she hoped looked like regret.“David…” she purred, placing a hand gently on his arm. “About earlier… I didn’t mean to say all those things. I—I was confused. But seeing you now, I realize I made a mistake.”David raised a brow. “Yeah, you did. A big one. The size of your ego, actually.”“Come on,” she said wi

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    At an old teahouse in South Carson, Charlotte Shaw sipped jasmine tea, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the frail man seated across from her. Uncle Frank, once a martial arts legend, now leaned heavily on a cane, his left leg twitching involuntarily.“You’re going to Scorpion Hollow?” he asked, coughing. “Have you lost your damn mind, girl?”Charlotte sighed. “I don’t need a lecture, Uncle Frank. I need protection. Someone who can handle whatever’s in that cave.”He gave her a look. “Honey, I got arthritis, three broken ribs, and a spine that clicks when I sneeze. You think I’m hiking into poison cave central?”“Then give me someone. Recommend someone.”Frank scratched his grizzled chin. “There’s one. James Logan. Senior disciple of Master Wilson. Older martial brother of the guy Jack Sullivan turned into roadkill last month.”Charlotte blinked. “He’s alive?”Frank grinned. “Back in the States. Quiet. Waiting for his chance to kill Sullivan. He hates Jack more than your makeup artist hates

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    James Leonard’s eyes narrowed, his body tense like a coiled spring.“You’ve made it this far, Sullivan,” he muttered, “but you won’t leave this mountain alive.”Jack rolled his shoulders, voice calm as ever. “Big words from a man who just fed his own ally to a scorpion.”With a roar, James lunged, his fists blurring with speed. The first punch hit Jack square in the chest—followed by three more in rapid succession.THUD. THUD. THUD.Jack didn’t even flinch.James froze mid-strike. “What…?”Jack looked down at his chest, brushed some dust from his coat. “You done?”James stepped back in disbelief. Those hits could crush concrete… but he didn’t even stagger.Is he human?Jack smirked. “Iron Body Technique. Guess your master didn’t teach you that.”James growled and went in again, this time throwing everything—knees, elbows, fists, spinning kicks. The ground cracked beneath him, and shockwaves rippled out.Still, Jack barely moved.Then came Jack’s turn.He stepped in, faster than lightn

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    “I’m not here for The Ghost,” James Leonard said coldly. “Frankly, I didn’t like him much. Arrogant, sloppy… too obsessed with making a name.”Jack raised an eyebrow. “Then why come for me?”James cracked his neck. “Because he was still my master’s student. Victor Yates trained him. His death reflects on the Yates lineage.”He took another step closer, killing intent radiating off him like heat.“I’m not here to mourn a brother. I’m here to defend my master’s honor. And that means killing you, Jack Sullivan.”Ron Taylor’s throat bobbed. He really means to fight Jack… this is bad.Behind them, the Emperor Scorpion loomed, its stinger dripping, poised over Uncle Frank, who was barely holding on.“J-James…” Frank rasped, coughing blood. “Help… me…”James turned to him slowly, lips curling into something cruel.“You? Help you?” He chuckled, then raised his leg.Before anyone could react—BAM!James kicked Uncle Frank like trash, launching him straight toward the scorpion’s gaping pincers.

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    The air turned heavy.A low, grinding rumble echoed from deep inside Nine Scorpion Cave.BOOM.A sharp vibration ran through the ground. Pebbles trembled. The trees swayed unnaturally.Jack Sullivan turned his head slowly toward the cave entrance.“They’re awake,” he said simply.Nie Mitchell’s face drained of color. “T-That sound… I’ve heard it before.” He staggered back a step. “Oh no… the nest is disturbed. They’re coming!”Before anyone could react, Charlotte Shaw snapped her fingers.“Uncle Frank!” she barked. “Take the vanguard. Clear it before they spread!”Uncle Frank nodded. “Yes, Miss!”He gathered a dozen armored men and dashed forward, spear in hand, moving like a man half his age.Ashley stepped closer to Jack. “What’s inside that cave?”“Poison,” Jack said. “And stupidity.”She blinked. “What?”Jack exhaled. “You’ll see.”From the mouth of the cave came a horrifying sound—a clicking, hissing flood of chaos.And then they appeared.Over 300 venomous scorpions, each rangin

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